


Put Some Dittany On It

by leeshur



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Auror Eren, Barebacking, Blood and Injury, Bottom Eren Yeager, Canon-Typical Violence, Curse Breaking, Curses, Dream Sex, Eren Is a Little Shit, Eventual Romance, Explicit Sexual Content, Healer Levi, Hospitalization, Humor, M/M, Top Levi Ackerman, he has reason to be though
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-12
Updated: 2021-03-18
Packaged: 2021-03-19 08:20:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 15,803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29996526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leeshur/pseuds/leeshur
Summary: Auror training is extensive. In summary, it teaches you to: follow your instincts, and, above all else, follow protocol.It's a pity Eren's only good at the first part.Or: Eren breaks the rules and (to no one's surprise) lands his arse in hospital, ending up as Levi's patient.
Relationships: Levi Ackerman/Eren Yeager
Comments: 15
Kudos: 70





	1. The Scope-Out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've wanted to write a SnK/Harry Potter crossover for a while, so this'll be fun.
> 
> With regard to character ages, I'd say that Eren and the other Aurors are in their early-to-mid twenties.  
> Levi and the other Healers are in their early-to-late thirties.

Sitting at a table in a near-empty, run-down café in East London, rookie Aurors Eren Jaeger and Jean Kirschtein stare at a dilapidated house sitting opposite with detached interest. Their now-cold, untouched cups of coffee rest on water-spot covered saucers. A lone worker dozes behind the till.

“Can’t believe how much of a headache these ‘Warriors’ have been, lately. Thomas said his group have been run ragged modifying Muggle memories all week.” Jean gripes, swirling a spoon in his drink, glowering down at its contents.

The word headache was an understatement. For the past few months, the ‘Warriors’, a renegade wizarding supremacy group, have been running riot amongst wizarding and Muggle society. Several Muggles have been killed or otherwise reported missing, causing widespread panic.

Frowning, Eren thinks back to a conversation he’d had with Armin, his best friend and prospective Unspeakable, a few weeks prior.

_“I heard through the grapevine that their goal is to do away with the Statute of Secrecy. The DMLE is already overrun trying to get to bottom of this, so I expect even you rookie Aurors will be roped in to help.” Armin had said matter-of-factly before quickly downing his cup of tea and rushing for their flat’s floo._

Armin’s prediction had, as always, been spot on. From the moment they’d completed training, Eren’s group of graduates had practically lived and breathed the Warriors case. Eren hadn’t expected to be assigned to anything glamorous, but scoping out empty buildings had gotten old by the second day. Three weeks in and he was already missing Head Auror Shadis’ gruelling training sessions.

“Shut up, horseface.” Eren snipes absent-mindedly. For most of the evening, the house had been unremarkable. However, he could now see sporadic flashes of light --wandlight-- through the curtained windows.

Excited, Eren nudges Jean sharply in the side with his elbow. “Something’s happening.”

“I do have eyes, Jaeger. Anyway, we’re meant to observe, not get involved. This is above our remit.” Jean chastises, rubbing at his side before stiffly easing himself up out of his chair and making for the café’s exit. “I’m going to send off a Patronus to let the upper brass know. Don’t do anything stupid.”

Eyes still glued to the scene in front of him, Eren waves Jean off impatiently. As much as he hates to admit it, Jean’s right. Before being assigned this task, their supervisor had made it a point to firmly and repeatedly stress that their role was to provide low-key surveillance only. Insubordination would lead to _severe_ disciplinary action.

"Don't worry, I’ll just sit here and keep watch. I _promise_ won’t get up and _try to be a hero_.” 

Listening for the chime of the café bell, Eren waits until Jean is out of sight. He surreptitiously shoots a glance in the direction of the till, and finds the worker still fast asleep.

***

Within seconds, Eren finds himself standing in front of the battered door of the target house. 

His wanton use of Apparition to get there surprises him, but he’s already broken a dozen rules just by leaving his post. In for a penny, out for a pound.

Sweeping his wand arm in a practiced, rectangular motion, he traces each edge of the door with his palely glowing wand tip and concentrates.

Nothing happens.

“Huh? Nothing?” he mutters to himself in confusion. This was unusual, he had expected there to be at least some basic warding around the property that extended beyond the perfunctory Notice-Me-Not and anti-Muggle charms. In full honesty, the lack of anti-Apparition charms is already suspect.

Shrugging, he points his wand at the tarnished lock and casts a non-verbal _Alohomora_. With a quiet _click_ , the door slowly opens. Peering in cautiously, Eren sees nothing but gloomy darkness. Wand held aloft, he steps into the threshold of the building with his breath held, only hoping that he hasn’t made a grave mistake.

Audible murmuring deeper into the house draws his attention. Bracing himself, Eren taps the crown of his head with his wand and suppresses a shudder as the Disillusionment charm begins to cloak his body. He sneaks in further towards the source of the noise and peeks around a corner.

To his alarm, he sights a robed figure lying motionless on the dirty wooden floor. Around it stands two figures. Peering through the looming darkness, Eren notes that both of them are dressed in similar garb to the seemingly unconscious person at their feet.

“You didn’t have to hex her!” the taller figure hisses urgently. Their voice was muffled, as if the speaker were wearing a mask.

“Would you have preferred that I killed her? She attacked me first!” retorts a second voice, also muffled but deeper in tone.

“We’re not going to be able to do this if you’re both at each other’s throats! I hadn’t even finished warding the place before you both decided to duel like first years.”

 _‘Ah, so that’s why I was able to sneak in so easily.’_ Eren thinks, as the bickering continues.

The deeper voiced individual chokes, scandalised. “You what?! _Homenum Revelio!_ ”

Eren's messy mop of hair stands on end as he feels the spell pass over him. He would have to Disapparate--

“See?! Someone’s here! _Confringo!_ ”

With a shout, Eren dives to the floor. Splintered sections of wood and dust shower over him as the explosive curse barely misses its mark.

“Should’ve minded your own business, little rat!” yells the attacker frenziedly, firing off more curses in Eren’s direction.

As Eren scrambles to find cover, he hears heavy footsteps rushing out of the room; they’re looking for him. As Eren flees, more and more curses are cast, forcing him to change direction rapidly. He takes cover behind a wall, chest heaving.

“I can see you, idiot.” taunts the deeper voice.

Before Eren can react, a massive explosion from above catches him off-guard. The falling debris crushes him, agonisingly pinning him in place, wand slipping out of his sweaty hand and clattering to the floor.

The footfalls get louder as his attacker approaches before finally stopping in front of him. They're breathing forcefully, their pants echoing against the walls of the room.

“You do realise you were covered in _dust_ , right? Defeats the purpose of a Disillusionment Charm,”

Heart hammering erratically, Eren remains silent.

“A newbie Auror like you should stay out of our affairs if you know what’s good for you.” The talker’s voice is still breathless but tinged with cruel amusement.

Eren hears additional footsteps as the assailant’s partner approaches, their steps rapid.

“Aurors knew about this place? We should leave.” they say, panicked.

Grunting, the deeper-voiced individual aims a vicious kick at Eren’s head, eliciting a pained gasp. “Fucking Aurors. We’ll have to do something about this one.”

Head throbbing, Eren’s vision begins to go black, the unrelenting weight of the rubble crushing his body and exerting too much pressure on his thorax. Belatedly, he realises he can feel the contours of his wand lying beneath him, but can’t extricate his arms to make a grab for it.

 _'Stay awake. Don’t faint'._ He wills himself, but feels his traitorous consciousness slipping.

 _‘Mikasa’s going to kill me.’_ he thinks before everything goes black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DMLE - Department of Magical Law Enforcement.
> 
> Thanks so much for reading! (*´･∀･)
> 
> It's been a while since I've written for this fandom, but I've mapped and written out quite a bit of plot (and am enjoying myself).  
> Updates might be a little sporadic due to uni, but I'm determined to get this one finished.


	2. Jean's Ire

Eren wakes to his face being slapped multiple times in quick succession.

“WAKE. UP. YOU. SUICIDAL. _MANIAC_!” shouts a familiarly irate voice, each word being punctuated with a hard slap.

Opening his eyes blearily, Eren is greeted with the unpleasant sight of Jean’s glowering face floating above him. Cheeks stinging, he rears back in alarm, banging his head against the floorboards in the process.

“What the fuck did I tell you, Eren?! I’m fairly certain I said that we were instructed to _survey_. Why and how the fuck did you interpret that as the complete goddamn opposite?” his partner grits out, still hovering above him.

“Give me some bloody space, Jean. Holy shit!” Eren cries, shimmying his body away and trying to ignore the pain that’s suffusing every inch of his body with each movement.

“I had to dig you out of _rubble_ , I thought you’d fucking died!” Jean yells, trembling with rage.

Gingerly peering around, Eren’s gaze is greeted with wreckage everywhere. Scattered wood and debris are littered across the room, dust coating everything – including his own body.

“I’ll ask you again, shithead. Why didn’t you listen to me? What the fuck happened here?”

As Eren tries to gather his thoughts, he finds himself unable to recollect why he’d ended up in this situation. Each time he tries, it’s like a void spitefully settles itself between the time Jean left and he woke up.

He’s at a loss.

“I don’t remember.” he supplies, voice faltering after sitting in silence for a few minutes, unable to look Jean in the eye.

“So, you either have a major concussion or your memory’s been modified. Either way, you’re going to St Mungo’s now. I’m not having Mikasa eviscerate _me_ because _you_ were a dumbass. Do you think you can stand?”

Biting his lip, Eren nods.

In spite of his ire, Jean’s grip is surprisingly gentle as he heaves Eren up onto his feet. Draping one of Eren’s arms across his shoulder and holding it in place, he places his other hand around Eren’s waist and leads him out of the room.

“Who the fuck did I piss off in a past life to get saddled with you as a partner, Jaeger?” Jean asks before he Side-Alongs a silent but trembling Eren.

***

Arriving at St. Mungo’s noisy waiting area, Eren is immediately hit with the heady, overwhelming scent of lavender. Nauseous and dizzy, he wobbles slightly in Jean’s grip, knees threatening to buckle. Jean grips onto him more firmly and leads him towards the reception desk.

A smartly-dressed receptionist sits comfortably behind the desk, bespectacled eyes glued to a particularly salacious article of the latest ‘Witch Weekly’ magazine grasped in her manicured hands. Jean waits for a few moments to draw her attention, and is summarily ignored. Irritated, he clears his throat forcefully, prompting her to look up from the pages.

The receptionist’s gaze is disinterested as she eyes both Eren and Jean up and down, taking note of their dishevelled Auror robes. As blood trickles down Eren’s face and drips onto the floor, she scowls.

“St Mungo’s no longer handles Department of Magical Law Enforcement-related injuries. You’ll have to Apparate or portkey to St Sina’s, our sister hospital.”

Jean gapes at the receptionist. “You what?” he asks in disbelief.

“As I _said_ , sir. We no longer handle injuries related to the DMLE, I can’t help you further.” she repeats, enunciating each word slowly and deliberately before rolling her eyes and turning back to her magazine.

“Well, given that we don’t know where St Sina’s is, would you mind directing us to a fucking portkey?” he barks, unamused.

Tutting at his outburst, she slams her magazine down before rummaging for something underneath the desk. Procuring a box labelled “Portkeys”, she plops it on the desk’s surface, its contents jangling.

“Take one, and it’ll get you there. Oh, and judging by how green your friend looks, you’d best hope there’s a bucket nearby once you arrive. Bye now.” she finishes, voice clipped.

Stomach already roiling with dread, Eren weakly reaches out the grab the portkey in unison with Jean. He gasps at the deeply unpleasant sensation of being hooked behind the navel, shutting his eyes and willing it to be over. Jean grunts sympathetically.

***

As they land at their destination, Eren slips out of Jean's grip and collapses heavily onto his knees and hands, vomiting profusely onto the laminated floor.

“Fucking _hell_ , Eren.” Jean sighs, patting his back whilst desperately looking around for help.

There’s no one at the receptionist’s desk, and the reception room is surprisingly empty; a stark contrast to St Mungo’s.

“The fuck is going on tonight?” he complains, trying to ignore the horrible retching noises coming from his partner.

It takes a few minutes for Eren to stop emptying the contents of his stomach, his body shuddering with exertion.

“M-my wand…” he chokes out from the ground, mouth sour and tears streaming down his face.

“I’ll look for it once we’ve sorted you out, don’t worry.” Jean replies testily, before Vanishing the pool of vomit with a quick flick of his wand and a grimace.

“Hello?” calls a chipper voice, prompting Eren to weakly look up.

A strawberry-blonde haired woman garbed in white nurse robes swiftly approaches, worry etched on her face as she claps eyes on Eren.

Without hesitation, she waves her wand around and Eren finds himself sitting quite comfortably in a cushy wheelchair.

“I’m Nurse Ral, but you can call me Petra. I’ll just pop one of these in front of you for now, in case you feel like you’re going to be sick again, okay?” she continues, swishing her wand again and conjuring a levitating bucket that hovers above Eren’s lap.

His stomach feels too empty for there to be a risk of a repeat episode of vomiting, but Eren nods anyway, wiping at his sweaty face with a robe sleeve.

“I’m going to move you to one of our assessment rooms for now. Please let me know if I’m wheeling you too fast Mr...?” Too tired to answer, Eren shuts his eyes.

“His name’s Eren Jaeger, I’m Jean Kirschtein. He got injured during an accident while we were on duty. He doesn’t remember what happened to him, but I found him under some rubble. We’re Aurors.” Jean states, keeping up with the nurse’s brisk pace as she steers Eren around. 

Petra clucks her tongue in sympathy, brown eyes concerned. “I noticed - your robes. We’ve been getting more Auror admissions recently, but rest assured we’ll take good care of Eren.”

Wheeling Eren into a room, she applies the brakes once he’s close to the bed. Turning away, she grabs a glass and mutters a quiet _Aguamenti_ , filling it with cool water. Passing it to Eren who accepts it with shaky hands, she repeats her ministrations and hands over another glass to Jean.

“I’ll be back in a few minutes, excuse me.” she says before bustling out of the room, strides quick and purposeful.

Drinking the water, Eren avoids looking at Jean and opts to stare at the room instead. It’s a little cramped, with various pieces of equipment stacked in the corners but thankfully doesn’t reek of lavender, so it’s already a marked improvement over St Mungo’s.

“Do you want me to stay for the examination part?” Jean hedges, tone uncomfortable.

Mid-sip, Eren chokes on his drink, aghast. “Fuck no!” he splutters between coughs.

“Hey arsehole, I was trying to be supportive. Hell, that’s all I’ve been tonight!”

“Yeah… thanks Jean, I owe you one.” Eren admits, embarrassed. He sips at his water, desperate for something else to focus on.

“Damn right, you do.”

As Eren finishes his glass, he dithers, twisting it around in his hands.

“Don’t tell Mikasa about what happ—”

Jean interrupts him, tone of voice brooking no argument. “Fuck no, don’t even _think_ about asking me to lie to Mikasa. Never gonna happen, so save your breath, Jaeger.”

“It’s not really a lie. More like a secret, if anything!”

“You dug your grave; I’m not lying in it for you. We’re already going to be in deep shit with the Department because of your antics, but I’ll take my chances with them over pissing off Mikasa.”

Silence fills the room once more, with both Eren and Jean seething at one another. After around ten minutes, Petra returns with a bundle of clothing in her arms.

“Alright, I’m going to need you to get undressed so that I can examine you. It’s likely you’ll have to stay here overnight to be seen by one of our head Healers, but we’ll see how your examination goes first. Is that okay with you, Eren?” she asks, smiling at him.

“Sounds good.” Eren replies, thankful that her arrival has broken the tension once more.

Placing the clothing bundle on the bed, Petra peers into the empty sick-bucket, humming with satisfaction. She Vanishes it before taking both Eren and Jean’s drinking glasses and places them on a nearby table.

“I’ll take this as my cue to leave. I’m going back to find your wand, Jaeger.” Jean says, tiredly scratching at his goatee before heading for the door. “Probably won’t bring it back tonight though, because fuck you, I’m tired.”

“Jean… thanks again.”

After directing a sardonic salute at his battered and bruised partner, Jean heads for the room’s exit. “Try to stay out of trouble for once, please? See you around, Petra.”

Petra waves at Jean as he departs, before setting up a changing screen around Eren.

“Will you need help getting undressed, or do you think you can manage by yourself?” she asks from behind the screen.

Shifting his aching body around in the wheelchair, Eren slowly raises himself out of the seat and stands, willing himself to remain upright.

“I should be good, thanks.” He lies, ignoring the twinges of pain shooting up and down his body.

“Give me a shout when you’re undressed, and I’ll pass the hospital gown over.”

As Eren bends forward slightly to remove his robes, a sharp stabbing sensation cuts through his abused chest, rendering him breathless. Dizziness spell resurging with a vengeance, he gasps and stumbles backwards, the back of his knees hitting the wheelchair.

A familiar darkness begins to consume him just as Petra pulls back the screen curtains, her face alight with alarm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For quite some time, I've wondered if there were more wizarding hospitals in Britain.
> 
> Even with magic and a smaller population, a small part of me has always felt that St Mungo's simply wouldn't be able to handle every admission.


	3. Crosswords and Curses

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who knew that researching the healing properties of plants could be so much fun? 
> 
> Levi makes an appearance in this chapter. I like the role I've given him in this story (and I hope you do too)!

Head and heart pounding, Eren awakes in a bed that isn’t his. The bedsheets that are currently pulled up to his chin are gossamer-soft, and judging by their sweet scent, freshly washed and starched. Melting against the mattress as it adheres to the contours of his body, he groans.

“I’ve died, haven’t I?” he mumbles to himself nonsensically, mouth dry and cottony.

To his right, a quiet huff of laughter is audible, prompting him to open a watery eye to seek out the source. It’s Nurse Ral – no, _Petra_ , his mind corrects. She’s sitting next to his bed, fiddling with an assortment of potions and strong-smelling poultices that are resting on his bedside table.

“Good afternoon, Eren.” she chuckles, turning away from the healing paraphernalia to look at him properly.

The curtains are fully open, bright beams of sunlight shining through the large bay window of the room Eren’s in. Opening his other eye, he squints a little and shifts further up the bed, resting his back against the copious number of pillows propped behind him. Watchful, Petra pulls out her wand and points it at the window, drawing the curtains slightly. Eren quirks a weak smile at her in thanks.

“Hi, Petra. Uh… mind telling me what I’m doing here?”

“Well, I can tell you right away that you haven’t died.”

Ears flushing red, he laughs awkwardly, wincing slightly as his head and chest throb in painful unison. He reaches a hand up to massage his right temple, closing his eyes. Concerned, Petra leans forward, practiced eyes quickly inspecting his bruised and scratched face. She glances back at the bedside table, fingers tracing over several of the healing items she’s collected.

“On a more serious note, you were brought here by your colleague last night. You were in a terrible state after a mishap at work. As I was prepping you for an objective examination to determine if you’d need to be admitted for an overnight stay, you collapsed, saving us quite a bit of time.” she jokes, grinning at him good-naturedly.

“You’ve been unconscious for a good… twelve hours or so. I tended to the superficial cut on your forehead as it was bleeding quite badly, but it might feel a little tender for a few days.” Pausing, she peers intently at Eren once more, focusing on his eyes. “You seem to be stable at the moment, so I’d like to start treating your other injuries now, if that’s okay with you. You’ll definitely need to be seen by a Healer before you can be discharged, however.”

“No problem. Honestly, I just want this headache to go away.”

Petra pours out a moderate measure of runny, verdant-coloured liquid into a small measuring cup before passing it to Eren. “Here. It’s a mixture of feverfew and foxglove – it’ll help with the headache. Be warned, it’s rather bitter.”

Undeterred, Eren downs the medicine in one gulp before shuddering. “God, that tasted awful.”

Tapping her wand against an empty glass, Petra passes Eren some water which he takes gratefully.

“Sorry, I always forget to pre-prepare the water! I’ve also got a peppermint rub we can apply to your temples before you sleep. It’ll help augment the effect of the medicine.” She waits until Eren drains his glass. “Would you mind unbuttoning your pyjama top for me? There’s a salve that needs to be applied to your chest first. We can do your back later.”

As Eren undoes the buttons on his shirt, he cringes at the sight of his chest. Plum-tinged bruises have bloomed across the surface of his skin. He hears Petra suck her breath in, appalled at the sight.

“It looks worse than it feels.” he jokes, vainly trying to lift the mood. Petra smiles back, but it’s a weak one.

“This salve’s got… arnica, willow bark and something else in it. I can’t quite remember the last ingredient’s name but it makes it feel tingly. They’ll help ease the inflammation and fade the bruising. Do you need help applying it?” She taps a nail against the lid of a fat container before unscrewing it and offering it to Eren who takes it.

“I should be okay.”

Scooping out a generous amount of the fragrant salve, Eren tentatively rubs it across his chest and stomach, taking care to cover each bruise, of which there are several. He repeatedly flinches as his fingertips gently skate over the tender skin covering each rib. The ointment sits coldly on his skin at first, but slowly begins to warm, soothing the residual soreness of his injuries.

“Not that I’m ungrateful, because this salve feels wonderful, but can’t you just… _Episkey_ these minor injuries? Surely it’d save you a lot of time.”

Canting her head to the left, Petra frowns a little. “I didn’t explain, did I?” Eren shakes his head, and she sighs apologetically. “If we don’t have a clear picture of what happened to our patients, we Nurses try to avoid using magic, even on minor and trivial injuries. It’s a lot slower, but honestly, it’s a necessary precaution. The fact that your memory’s been modified is a major red flag, and is compounded by the fact that we don’t know if your attacker has casted something more insidious on you. Unfortunately, there are some rather nasty spells that can make healing magic do _more_ damage.”

“Fuck.” he utters, horrified recollection overtaking his confusion. They’d covered that particular sub-set of Dark Magic in training; a mandatory and emotionally exhausting ordeal. Gruesome images he’d mentally blocked out suddenly rush to the forefront of his mind, turning his stomach.

“Mhm. Thankfully, we don’t encounter those kinds of spells often, but we can’t get complacent.”

“Do you know which Healer’ll be handling my case, Petra?” Eren asks, stomach still flip-flopping.

Replacing the lid on the tub of salve, Petra hums to herself. “I’m not too sure, actually. I think Healer Zacharias has been handling Auror admissions, but there’s been an unfortunate uptick in those… so, Levi might get roped in.”

“When do you think I’ll be able to get visitors? I’m sure my friends are fretting right now. “

He can just imagine Mikasa interrogating Jean, probing him for every detail about the night of Eren’s accident, no matter how small or inconsequential it might seem. A tiny part of him twinges with guilt. He can only hope that Armin will be able to keep her in check and stop her from going on a rampage.

“Honestly Eren, I can’t say. It’s down to the Healers. Aurors under our care are being afforded extra protections at the moment, so it might take a little longer before your family and friends are able to see you.” Brightening, she adds “They’re welcome to send Owls though, they’re much faster to screen!”

It’s not really the same, but he can tell she’s trying to cheer him up and appreciates it.

“Speaking of friends, your partner… Jean, was it?”

They’re not really friends, but Eren nods in response to her question.

“He dropped by earlier this morning with news about your wand.”

Heart hammering against his salved chest, Eren waits, anticipating the worst. The room Jean had found him in had been a wreck, so he doesn’t have high hopes about the status of his missing wand.

“He found it, but wasn't able to bring it here. There’s going to be an internal investigation about what happened to you last night, so it’s being kept at the Ministry for the time being. However, he wanted me to stress to you that it is _not_ broken.”

Eren doesn’t know why he’s crying.

\---

The sun’s beginning to set, painting the white walls of Eren’s hospital room a vivid vermillion. Scowling, he puts down his issue of the _Daily Prophet_ , abandoning the crossword he’d been working on for most of the afternoon. He’s never been very good at them, and they make him miss Armin. 

A short, dark-haired man clothed in green Healer’s robes enters Eren’s room, startling him. Tired-looking eyes rove across Eren’s face. Striding over to the front of the bed, he picks up a clipboard and rapidly flips through the attached pages of parchment.

"Who-" Eren starts, but is interrupted.

“My name is Levi and I am going to be your assigned Healer for your stay at St Sina’s. Please give me a moment to quickly go over your notes. Once I’ve done that, I’ll let you know what’s going to happen next.”

“Sure but… have we met before? I feel like I’ve seen you somewhere.” Eren asks, peering at Levi's pale face with curious scrutiny. Levi looks back at him, gaze disinterested.

“You ever been hospitalised prior to this?”

Tilting his head to the left slightly. Eren frowns. “No…”

“Well, I’m not a criminal. So no, we haven’t met before today.” Levi states, tone crisp.

Frown deepening, Eren says nothing.

Glancing down at the last page of notes, Levi’s eyes narrow. In spite of Petra’s in-depth documentation, when he reads between the lines, there’s barely any useful information that he can use. Outside of the basics, hourly observations of his vitals and overall magical constitution, the notes were, by-and-large, useless.

He replaces the notes, resisting the urge to sigh.

“I’m going to cast a monitoring charm on you now, Eren. You might feel a slight chill for a moment or two, but it should pass quickly. If you’re fine with me proceeding, let me know.”

“Go for it.” Eren replies, sounding airier than he feels.

Pulling out his wand, Levi points the tip at Eren’s supine body before beginning to trace the air in a circular motion. His form is gracefully practiced as his wand moves, and small beads of light began to manifest in its wake, illuminating the room gently. As more and more beads appear, they slowly descend, draping themselves across Eren’s lightly shivering figure like a sheer veil of starlight.

A muted humming noise begins to fill the room, which Levi takes as his cue to begin swiping his wand through the air with methodical and practiced wrist flicks and loops. The humming intensifies for a moment before dying down to nothingness. Steadily and gently, the beads of light melt away and scatter. Bewildered and a little awed at the display, Eren shoots a questioning look at Levi.

“So, uh… what’d that spell tell you about my condition?” he asks, brows furrowed.

Levi hurriedly stows his wand in its holster around his waist. “It’s told me that your fainting spells and overall fatigue aren’t normal. You’re not suffering from a concussion, but you have definitely been hit with some kind of spell, likely a curse of some kind. I’m going to need more time to investigate things.”

Eren sits up abruptly, displacing the Prophet and some magazines resting on the bed. As they fall to the floor, Levi’s right eye twitches. “Will I be able to go home today or am I going to be here overnight again? I only ask because me collapsing was kind of a sudden thing—”

“It usually is.” Levi quips as he bends down to pick up the offending magazines, placing them back on the bed with more force than is probably necessary. Oblivious to the implication, Eren continues talking.

“—and I don’t have any of my things like clothes and uh… toiletries.” He tails off sheepishly, face growing hot.

“I would prefer to keep you here overnight again, just in case your condition changes. We’ll provide you with a change of clothes and everything else, so there’s no need to be concerned about that.”

Leaning back into his soft pillows, Eren sighs, glum. He’s half-furious with himself for getting into this situation in the first place. As much as he hates to admit it, he should have listened to Jean. It doesn’t help that his memory’s being an uncooperative shit, given that he still can’t recall what lead to his accident in the first place.

_‘I’ve wracked my brains over and over, yet I’m still drawing a blank. I must have had a run-in with someone, but I don’t understand why they opted to wipe my memory and curse me. Surely it would’ve been cleaner, easier even, to just kill me?’_

It’s disturbing. Something isn’t adding up, but the more he tries to dwell on the situation, the more frustrated he gets at his lack of recollection.

“Do you have any more questions or concerns, Eren?” Levi asks, but he’s already turning his body as if to leave. Ignoring the building pressure in his head, Eren shakes his head, gazing up at the ceiling instead.

“Very good. I’ll be back to reassess you in about an hour or so. Petra is your assigned nurse, and she’ll be checking on you more frequently. I believe you’ve met her already.”

Before he can respond, Levi leaves the room. Alone again, he slumps his back against his pillows and huffs in exasperation.

_‘A curse, huh? Just my luck.’_

Outside, the sky’s starting to darken.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the hits and kudos, readers. 
> 
> I haven't written in a while, so it's incredibly heartening to see people taking a look at my work!


	4. Levi

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There will be a few Levi chapters interspersed throughout the story.

Levi fucking hates Wednesdays. As far as he’s concerned, Mondays get a bad rap. Every bad shift he’s ever had inexplicably seems to happen on a Wednesday.

Suffice to say, when he arrives at work on a drizzly Wednesday morning, he's not feeling optimistic.

He was running a little bit late. His fireplace had got into a sulk over something and had refused to connect to the Floo Network. It had taken ten minutes of Levi cursing out the damn thing and threatening to seal it up permanently before it relented, grudgingly accepting the Floo Powder.

Landing neatly on the floor of his office, he brushes speckles of soot off his clothing with his hands before wordlessly casting a quick _Scourgify_ for his peace of mind. Sweeping across the room to grab his clean set of Healer robes from his coat-rack, he ignores the two intruders currently lounging on his desk.

“Nice to see you on your favourite day of the week, Levi.” snickers one of the intruders. Their partner snorts.

“Fuck off Hange. You too, Mike.” He says, after slipping into his robes, turning around to shoot unamused glares at the grinning pair.

Healers Zoe Hange and Mike Zacharius were two of his closest friends and colleagues, but they were also major pains in his arse most, if not all of the time. 

“No handover for us today, Levi.” Hange says gleefully as Levi arches a brow in surprise.

“Why’s that?” he asks, already dreading the answer.

Mike grunts, sniffing. “Zackley’s called a meeting. Erwin said he wants us there, and no, I don’t know why.”

Levi groans. Chief Coordinator Darius Zackley, their technical “boss”, was an unpleasantly arrogant man who enjoyed listening to the sound of his voice above all else. Any meeting headed by him was sure to be a dull affair.

“Don’t you just _love_ Wednesdays, Levi? I sure do.”

“Shut the fuck up, Hange.”

\---

Levi had been right; the meeting was already boring him to tears and they weren’t even a quarter-way through.

Seated in the expansive boardroom, Zackley sat at the head of the table, deep in speech, oblivious to the tired gazes and stifled yawns of his audience. The only reprieve was that Hange and Mike were seated next to Levi, their bilaterally whispered running commentary keeping him awake. Head Healer Erwin Smith, their actual boss, sat opposite them, occasionally shooting amused looks at the two idiots flanking Levi.

“Back to the matter at hand, then. As you are all aware, after lengthy talks with their representatives, I was able to to secure a mutualistic deal with the Ministry that should, in time, greatly elevate St Sina’s position with regard to public healthcare.” Zackley paused, lapping up the somewhat stilted murmurs of praise and polite claps that came from around the table.

“Due to St Mungo’s currently being overwhelmed by the influx of patients from both the Ministry and public, any and all Auror admissions are being directed to St Sina’s for the foreseeable future. Indeed, some of you may have already treated a few of these patients. Given the current state of the Warrior’s crisis, this situation is unlikely to change.”

_‘So that explains Jaeger, then.’_

“I do not think I need to elaborate about why it is imperative that we get these Aurors back on the field in as timely a manner as possible. As of now, they are our priority.”

Levi’s eyes are drawn to Erwin suddenly leaning forward, angling his body towards Zackley. His gaze on the senior man is disconcertingly intense, even for him.

His raised hand draws the man’s attention.

“Speak, Erwin.”

“Thank you, Darius.” Zackley’s moustache twitches, clearly in annoyance at Erwin’s reciprocal omission of his title. 

_‘Hypocritical fuck.’_

Erwin smoothly presses on. “If we are to prioritise our Auror patients, this will undoubtedly have a knockback effect on all other non-Auror admissions. How should we, as physicians, approach situations like this?”

“Triage them.” is Zackley’s non-answer, tone imperious. Erwin’s thick eyebrows rise briefly before he dips his head in polite deference.

“Understood, sir.”

Levi’s eyes snap back to Erwin, surprised at his easy acquiescence. While it’s likely Erwin’s playing some kind of unknown game here, he had expected the man to press the issue further before backing down.

“If there are no more questions, I would like to move on to the next section of this meeting regarding funding.” Zackley drones on.

Ignoring Hange’s incessant poking, Levi sighs.

\---

As Levi enters Erwin’s office, he’s barely able to contain his fury. He’d tuned out the rest of the meeting, instead brooding over why it was even necessary for him to be present. In his opinion, in the time he’d wasted listening to Zackley harp on about figures and whatever-the-fuck-else, he could’ve been doing his actual fucking job.

“Erwin, I’m sorry, but I’m not rushing my patients out of the door, Auror or not.” Levi fumes as he takes a seat in front of the man’s desk. “They’ll be discharged when they’re ready to go.”

“I wouldn’t expect any less from you, Levi, nor would I instruct you to compromise your quality of care. Tea?” Slightly mollified, Levi nods.

Resting on chipped saucers, two steaming cups of tea appear in front of the men.

“If that’s the case, why’d you not press the issue further back there?”

“In truth, Darius cares very little for the welfare of our patients.” Erwin explains patiently. “His main priorities concern funding and, as he mentioned, elevating the hospital’s overall position. It would have been a waste of my time to wax poetic about why I disagree with him.”

“I’ll never understand why sleazy fuckers like him involve themselves in healthcare if they don’t give two shits about the patients.”

“Power attracts all kinds of people, Levi. I’m sure you know that. It certainly doesn’t help that Darius is not a Healer, he simply does not see patients in same the manner we do.”

“I don’t think you need to be a Healer to have basic fucking empathy.” Levi argues.

Erwin hums in assent, but does not press the issue further.

“Speaking of Auror patients, how is Mr Jaeger? Have you made any progress?”

Cradling his tea-cup close to his face, Levi sighs and takes a sip and grimaces – it’s been steeped for too long – before placing it back down on the saucer.

“Shit tea, Erwin.” he complains. “We’ve got him stable for now, but I have a feeling this’ll be a long-term case.”

“Darius won’t be pleased to hear that.”

“Damn, it’s a good thing I don’t give a shit about Darius or what pleases him, then.” Levi snaps. “Ignoring all the stabilisation spells we’re having to maintain, Jaeger’s also on a litany of potions that he has to take hourly.”

“Mm, it would be irresponsible and honestly, quite impossible to expect him to be able to manage that by himself outside of a hospital setting.” Erwin agrees, moving to pick up his drink.

“The fucked-up thing is he’s probably Zackley’s wet dream.”

Erwin, mid-sip, chokes.

“Not like that, for fuck’s sake, Erwin. I mean, I’ve only been handling Eren's case for a few days and it’s obvious he’s itching to get back to work, illness be damned. He’s goddamn poster-boy for the fucking fly-through Healing that old fart’s pushing for.”

Dabbing at his mouth with a napkin, Erwin replaces his cup before resting his elbows on the desk. Clasping his hands together, he knits his brows, seemingly deep in thought. After a moment or two, he smiles.

“Continue as you are with regard to Eren’s treatment. I’ll handle Darius.”

Levi's sceptical. “How?”

“Well, given that we have the son of the renowned _Doktor_ Jaeger under our care, I expect even Darius will want us to handle the situation with careful deliberation.”


	5. Angst and Doughnuts

“Eren!”

Eyes snapping open, Eren’s greeted by the sight of a handful people gathered in various spots around his room. He blinks several times, disbelief curving his mouth into a delighted smile.

“Guys?”

Mikasa and Armin are sitting by his bedside, Connie’s perched on the windowsill gawping at him from afar, Sasha’s lingering near his unofficial “snack table” eyeing the box of doughnuts Petra had dropped off earlier, and Jean’s glowering at him from the back of the room.

“St Sina's finally gave us permission to see you.” Armin explains quickly. “I sent them several politely-worded letters, but it didn’t help much. In the end Mikasa had to um… _persuade_ the upper brass at the Ministry to intervene on our behalf. They expedited the screening process for us.”

Crossing his arms, Connie’s face is thoughtful. “You’d think they’d give us a free-pass. I mean, we’re Aurors.”

“Eren is _family_. We should have been allowed to see him right away.” Mikasa hisses, indignant. Patting her shoulder, Armin nods before turning to face Eren.

“You look terrible, Eren.” Armin says, blue eyes sad as he scans his face, taking in the mottled bruises and scratches that are scattered over it. Mikasa huffs, body tense, but remains silent.

“He looked like death a couple days ago. Trust me… that _mess_ is a marked improvement.” Jean calls over, jeering. Mikasa stiffens further, shooting Eren a reproving look. Guilt forces him to look away.

Sasha, oblivious to the rising tension in the room, furtively sneaks a doughnut out of the box.

“Listen… I know I messed up, and I’m sorry. If I had a Time-Turner, I’d tell my past self to stay the fuck in my seat.”

“Damn right you would. I can’t believe how reckless you were, Eren. If Jean hadn’t found you in time you could’ve—” voice catching, Mikasa turns away.

“We were so terrified when Jean told us what had happened. It was made worse when we found out that we weren’t allowed to see you right away.” Armin adds, shaking his head ruefully.

Pushing himself off the wall, Jean saunters over to Eren’s bed, standing behind Mikasa. “Have your memories returned yet, Jaeger?” he asks, tutting when Eren shakes his head. “I bet you’re going stir-crazy in here. Not very mentally stimulating, is it?” 

“Honestly, I’m half-wishing I could swap places with him right now. Work’s crazy at the moment.” Connie confesses, scrubbing a hand over his buzzcut as he stifles a yawn with the other.

“Mm, the Warriors are really ramping up their activity – we’re stretched super thin. It was honestly a miracle that all of us were able to visit you today.” Armin affirms quietly and Mikasa nods, eyes a little red.

“I heard. The _Prophet’s_ gone into a lot of detail about the incidents. That Fleet Street one sounded really bad.” Eren says, prodding at the discarded tabloid resting on his lap.

At the mention of ‘Fleet Street’ Sasha jerks up suddenly, dropping a half-eaten jam doughnut back into its box.

Alarmed, everyone stares.

“You have no idea,” her eyes are haunted as she closes the box, appetite gone. “They had to prune out a _lot_ of information from the article to make it print-worthy. It was much worse than whatever they’ve described in there. Believe me.”

The quiet tension that follows in the wake of her words is taut and discomfiting.

“They’ve had to move us out of surveillance and into active-duty. We’re “official-official” Aurors now, I guess.” Connie adds uncomfortably, breaking the silence.

“Extra hours, extra danger, and the same pay. My heart soars.” Jean adds, quirking his chin up at the ceiling sulkily.

“There’s not much that the DMLE can do. The Warriors are getting bolder, so it makes more sense for Aurors to have an active presence in areas they’d target. They’re avoiding killing anyone who isn’t a Muggle, so flaws aside, it’s a decent deterrent. Not great, but better than nothing.” Armin states, intently fixing his gaze on his hands as they grip his knees.

“—Anyway, moving on… we all brought you few things, Eren.” Connie interjects, clearly desperate to change the subject and break the tension that’s still lingering in the air like miasma.

Breaking out of her grave reverie, Sasha rummages in her well-worn, but well-loved leather handbag and pulls out a sweet-smelling brown paper bag. Sidling over to Eren, she pops it on top of the _Prophet_ with haste, covering its front page.

“I got you a croissant. Well, I got you a few, but I… ate the others, sorry!” she admits, sheepish.

Connie sighs, slapping a hand across his face. Eren can only laugh, grateful that she hasn’t changed.

“I brought you some of your books in case you get bored. I promise I haven’t slipped any of mine in there.” Armin smiles, pointing at a thick stack of books on the bedside table.

Mikasa jerks her head at the chest of drawers on the other side of the room. “I got you some of your clothes, in case you get sick of wearing hospital gowns. They’re already packed away.”

Eren fondly stares at each of his friends in turn, eyes soft.

“I brought _myself_ , Jaeger. I think saving your scrawny arse was gift enough.” Jean snipes, but he’s smirking.

“Fair enough, Jean.” Eren replies evenly, not taking the bait for once.

\---

By the time Connie, Sasha and Jean leave, Eren’s mood is much lighter. He’s only been in hospital for a couple of days, but he’s missed them - even Jean - more than he can say. He smiles faintly at Mikasa and Armin, before noticing they keep shooting each other worried looks.

“What’s wrong?” Eren asks, suspicious, flitting his gaze between them.

Armin chews on his lip. “Eren… do you promise not to fly off the handle?”

“I don’t think I’m in any position to get mad at you guys. So yeah, I promise.”

“Your dad firecalled last night.”

Flinching, Eren stares Armin down – stony-faced, but says nothing.

“We’re not sure how he found out, but he was asking us about your condition and what had happened,” Armin continues, eyes wary and voice nervous.

“Obviously, we didn’t have much to tell him because we were lacking information ourselves, but I… well, he gave off the impression that he wants to see you for himself.”

“Not happening.” Eren snaps, crossing his arms – good mood evaporating.

Mikasa sighs and shoots Armin a knowing look. “I _told_ you he wouldn’t take it well.”

Guilt is plastered all over Armin’s face, but he shrugs helplessly. “He had a right to know.”

Reading the room, Mikasa raises herself out of her seat. “Mm. Should we leave, Eren?” she asks, resigned. She already knows the answer.

“Yeah.”

The visceral fury that is gnawing at his insides is overwhelming. Hunching his shoulders up to his ears, he purposefully looks past Armin and Mikasa and stares out of the window. There’s not much to see, given that it’s near pitch-black outside, but he can’t bear to make eye contact with either of them right now.

In the periphery of his vision, he spots Armin and Mikasa moving away from his bed and heading for the door.

“We’ll see you later in the week, Eren. Feel better soon.” Armin says with feeling.

“See you later, Eren.” Mikasa says, following Armin out of the room. If Eren were to look over at her, he's sure he'd find a sad smile on her lips. 

\---

Seething in the darkness of his room, Eren resists the temptation to throw something.

Grisha-fucking-Jaeger; his father. The man who’d prioritised his job over his still-grieving son. The man who’d repeatedly dismissed Eren’s dream of becoming an Auror, expecting him to obediently follow in his footsteps and become a Healer. The same man who’d, in all but name, disowned Eren once he’d revealed he was leaving Germany to start his Auror training in Britain.

The man who’d caused Eren so much _hurt_ wanted to see him.

Fisting his bedsheets, Eren snarls. “No.”

Now that he’s older, he understands that his mother’s death was likely a driving motivator in Grisha’s neglectful behaviour, but some things are hard to forgive.

He hasn’t seen or spoken to his father in almost half a decade, and he doesn’t know if he’ll ever be ready to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I miss Sasha so much.


	6. Inner Turmoil

“I swear to God, this case is going to drive me insane.”

“I don’t know why you’re complaining, Levi. At least Eren doesn’t spit _acid_ at you every time you dare to examine him.” Hange grouses, picking absently at the singed holes in their uniform as they lounge next to Levi, reclining slightly on his squashy sofa.

Flipping through his well-thumbed copy of ‘Advanced Ailments and Curses’, Levi sighs. “At this point, I’d rather deal with acid saliva. We all know that Mr Voerman isn’t letting you examine him properly because he’s shady as fuck. Clearly the illegal shit he’s involved in has put him in that state.”

“I wish he’d just discharge himself. I don’t know what he expects me or anyone else to _do_.”

“Wave a magic wand and fix his problems?” Levi jokes distractedly, frowning down at a paragraph.

Alarmed, Hange stares Levi down.

“If you’re cracking non-toilet related jokes, then I _know_ something’s wrong. What’s going on with Eren? I haven’t looked at his notes.”

Forcefully slamming the book down on the coffee-table in defeat, Levi palms his face in frustration. “He’s been cursed, that much is apparent. I thought it may’ve been a wasting curse, but it’s more complex than that.”

“More complex…? How so?”

“The caster of this curse put a lot of thought into it. I didn’t notice it at first, but there’s an obfuscation hex mixed in with all the other nasty shit that’s making Eren sick. Every time I try to unravel one section, another bit gets tangled or snagged. Fuck, it’s like a magical version of your stupid earbubs or whatever the hell they’re called.”

“Ear _buds,_ and they’re a wonderful Muggle invention, Levi. I’ll let you borrow them some time.”

“No thanks. The issue is I’m not sure how I can fix this. Each attempt weakens him, and I’m leery about putting him under any more unnecessary strain.”

Hange’s eyes widen as Levi begins to uncharacteristically comb his fingers through his hair in agitation.

_‘This case is really getting to him.’_

“Alright. So, his main symptom is…”

“Unremitting fatigue, a result of his unexplained anaemia. We’re managing the anaemia with Blood Replenishing potions at the moment, but we can’t keep him on them forever.” Levi intones dully.

Hange hums in acknowledgment as they thumb through the pages of Eren’s medical history that are currently spread all over Levi’s coffee table. Nothing in particular stands out. Outside of a bout of childhood dragon pox, he’s been remarkably healthy up until this point.

“Do you think we should bring a curse-breaker in? I could speak to Erwin and see if he can pull a few strings.” Hange suggests, resting the side of their face against a palm thoughtfully.

Stilling, hands remaining in his hair, Levi stares. “Hange, have you forgotten that _I_ was a curse-breaker? Switch your brain on, please.”

“I mean, you’ve been out of the game for a good few years now! Things could’ve changed!”

“Any curse-breaker worth their salt, past or present, keeps up-to-date with things. It’s always been a dynamic art; techniques evolve and get refined over time. Given what we do here, it’s a useful skill to maintain.”

“Ok, ok. No need to lecture me, I was just… throwing suggestions out there.” Hange grouses, pouting.

“I’m going to ignore how hypocritical you’re being right now.”

Petulant, Hange jabs Levi in the arm before returning to pore over Eren’s notes.

After ten minutes, they give up and stretch, grunting in satisfaction as their bones crack.

“Well, I don’t think we’re going to glean anything more from these.”

“If I could just work out precisely what the curse is targeting, it’d make it easier to lift. Either that or the caster will stop being a shithead and lift it themselves.” Levi mutters more to himself than Hange.

Getting up, Hange pats Levi on the shoulder, sighing and shuffling odd-socked feet towards Levi’s kitchen.

“I’ll brew us another cup of tea.”

\---

Exhausted and admitting defeat, Hange departs Levi’s flat at eleven PM. Too consumed in his research, Levi doesn’t notice and ends up working through the night.

Only when he hears the shrill trilling of his alarm does Levi realise he’s not slept a wink. He should really firecall in sick, but he wants to check up on Eren today. He’s fairly certain he has some leftover Invigoration Draught stashed away in the bathroom somewhere.

Gripping the edges of his bathroom sink, he stares his reflection down in the mirror. To put it eloquently: he looks like shit. Bruised circles rim his under-eyes, and he’s paler than usual.

“You’re looking a bit peaky, dear.” the mirror says, concern in its voice.

Rummaging around in his medicine cabinet, he scoffs. “You say that every day. I’m fine.”

“You, of all people know that you need to take better care of yourself.” it presses as his fingers find purchase on the flask he'd been searching for.

“Whatever.” he says, uncorking and swigging the draught.

\---

Eren’s not having a good morning when Levi walks into his hospital room. With stormy eyes, he glowers at his clenched hands, but quickly looks up when he senses Levi’s presence.

Several pieces of torn paper litter the floor next to Eren’s bed, immediately catching Levi’s weary eye. He slowly and deliberately raises his gaze to meet Eren’s, eyes narrowing contemptuously.

“This isn’t a pigsty, brat. Put your trash where it belongs – the bin.”

“You’re right; it’s not a pigsty. It’s a hospital, so why don’t you fix your shitty bedside manner?” Eren snaps back, eyes fiery.

Levi stares, torn between being impressed at Eren’s gall and offended at the disrespect.

“Ah, so this is what Petra warned me about before I came in here.” he says mildly.

To his credit, Eren is somewhat shamefaced before he looks away.

“I didn’t mean to shout at her.” he mumbles, shoulders drooping.

“Of that I’m sure.” Levi says, unamused sarcasm lacing his tone, before moving to read Eren’s most recent observation notes.

“I’m also sorry that I shouted at you, Levi.”

Levi hums in acknowledgement of Eren’s apology, but doesn’t look up from the notes. The room is unpleasantly quiet just long enough for Eren to feel uncomfortable.

“It’s my dad. He wrote me a letter. I didn’t like what it said, so I ripped it up.” he admits, breaking the silence.

“So, rather than tossing the pieces in the bin where they’ll be Vanished immediately, you decided to act like a child and litter my floor in a fit of pique.” Levi says, clearly unimpressed.

“If you knew my father, you’d understand.” Eren grits out between clenched teeth.

“I know who your father is, Eren. I’d wager that most Healers do, given how much he’s contributed to our literature.”

Rolling his eyes, Eren huffs. “Okay, so you know _of_ him in a professional sense. That’s not even remotely the same.”

“No, I’m fairly certain he’s a prick. Most Healers are. It comes with the territory.”

Eren sighs, exasperated. “Yes, but it’s more than that. He wants to see me.”

Putting the notes down, Levi arches a brow. “I’m failing to see the problem here. If you don’t want to see him, you’re under no obligation to. You’re an adult.”

Eren grumbles to himself. “That won’t stop him. You really don’t get it.”

“No. I don’t.” he says, waiting.

Fiddling with his bedsheets, Eren doesn’t elaborate. “I want to talk about something else. Tell me about your day.”

“There’s not much to tell. I got lectured by my bathroom mirror, took a shit and shower before getting ready for another shift here. You’re a Healer’s son, you must know we don’t have interesting lives.”

Eyes wide, Eren stares. “Your mirror _lectured_ you? What do you mean?”

“It’s one of those talking mirrors; the ones that comment on your appearance and are overly-familiar. The previous tenant of my flat put a permanent sticking charm on the fucking thing, so I’m stuck with it.”

“Does it lecture you every morning?”

“No. Depends on its mood really. If I’ve pissed it off, it’ll fog itself up so that I can’t use it, though.”

“Levi, how do you manage to antagonise a _mirror_?” Eren asks, laughing incredulously.

Thinking, Levi’s lifts his eyes to the ceiling with a smirk. “I think I told it to shut the fuck up one time when I was hungover. It got offended.”

“I wonder what it’d say about me.” Eren muses aloud.

“Would probably have a few choice words about that man-bun you’ve been rocking lately.”

Affronted, Eren shoots Levi an icy glare. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Calm your arse, Eren. _I_ happen to like it. It’s marked improvement over that bird’s nest you seemed to have no issue with.”

Eren stays uncharacteristically silent. Feeling uneasy, Levi clears his throat.

“How’re you feeling, health-wise?”

“I’m… okay. Still feel a bit fatigued at times, but the potions are helping.”

“Alright. I wanted to see how you’d handle walking around the room for a bit, but if you’re feeling tired—“

“No, I can do it!” Eren interrupts, eager. He swings his legs off the edge of the bed with more vigour than usual.

“I’ll be nearby. If you feel dizzy, let me know immediately.” Levi instructs, positioning himself a half-metre behind Eren.

“Got it.”

Bare feet padding softly against the cool stone of the floor, his gait is a little unsteady for a few seconds before it stabilises itself. With a quick peek over his shoulder, he spies Levi watching his steps intently.

It feels good walking around, he’d grown heartily sick of resting in bed. Of course, he’d been doing the stretching and strengthening exercises Petra had taught him to stop his muscles from getting stiff and weak, but it wasn’t the same.

“Not bad, Eren.”

Getting cocky and wanting to show off, Eren increases his speed a little. The more progress he can show Levi, the sooner he can leave, he rationalises as he circuits around the room.

“Slow down, it’s not a race.” Levi chides.

“I’m fine, honestly Le—"

As his left forefoot plants itself on the floor, something in his left knee twinges unhappily as he weight-bears, causing him to stumble and veer sideways.

In a flash, Levi catches him by the arms, his grip ridiculously strong. Eren’s surprised. Given Levi’s short stature, he had mistakenly assumed he wouldn’t be.

“Trust you to trip over your big-ass feet, Jaeger.” Levi complains, using his weight to leverage Eren into a more upright and stable position before leading him back to the bed. Eren sits on it heavily, frustrated scowl directed at the floor.

“I know what you’re trying to do and why, but this isn’t something you can rush.”

Looking up at him, Eren glares, jaw set. “Can you fucking blame me?”

“No, but I’m going to check you over now.”

Unlatching his holster, Levi pulls out his wand, pointing it in the air. He steadily marks out the edges of Eren’s seated figure, muttering under his breath. Multi-coloured strands of light exit the tip and delicately arrange themselves in the shape of Eren’s body that Levi has traced out.

Feeling strangely exposed and a little moved, Eren can only compare it to being painted, the air acting as the canvas.

It’s beautiful.

Satisfied with whatever information the spell has provided him, Levi swipes his wand through the middle of the floating sketch of Eren and it disappears.

Eren swallows. “My knee felt a bit weird, that’s all.” 

“Do your exercises, then.”

“I do them _all the time_!”

Levi’s eyes are sceptical, but meeting Eren’s eyes, he smiles. “If you say so.”

Eren feels off-kilter.

He enjoys looking at Levi, particularly when he’s casting spells. There’s just _something_ about the way he holds himself when using magic that compels Eren to pay attention. His spell-work is purposeful, yet artful at the same time. He’s never seen anything like it before.

It shouldn’t mean anything, right? He’s stuck here. It’s a given that he’d be focusing his attention on his assigned Healer who, aside from Petra, he has the most contact with.

“Eren, your heart rate’s elevated. Are you alright?”

“I’m fine.” Eren mumbles, mortified.

“Hm.” Levi sounds doubtful and presses the back of his hand against Eren’s face. “You’re feeling very hot.”

Eren can feel his face reddening at the touch. “I’m fine, I think the room’s a bit stuffy, that’s all.” he lies, surprised he’s able to talk at all.

Removing his hand, Levi frowns. “I’ll adjust the ambient room temperature, then. If you do feel sick at any point, call for Petra. She’s already forgiven you, so don’t suffer in silence.”

Pointing his wand at the ceiling and casts a quick atmospheric charm, cooling the room. “I’ll be back later. Don’t do anything stupid while I’m gone.”

“No promises!” Eren calls weakly as Levi bustles out of the room, robes swishing behind him.

_‘Oh no.’_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh no, indeed.


	7. Midnight Malpractice (Explicit)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They do the thing. 
> 
> ...Or do they?

Eren laughs as soft kisses are peppered across his neck, languidly leading up to the juncture of skin that meets the curve of his jaw.

Pausing, Levi glances up, grey eyes dark. “Care to share the joke, Jaeger?”

“It tickles a bit.” he admits, wriggling. “And uh, I just never thought we’d be doing this, let alone in my _hospital bed_.”

Resuming his exploratory kissing, Levi smiles against Eren’s skin. “Makes it more exciting.”

Gently cupping the side of his face with one hand, he bites down on the soft flesh of Eren’s throat just above the clavicle and sucks. Moaning, Eren tightens his grip around the sides of Levi’s chest, splayed fingers resting in the hollows between each rib.

“L-Levi, you’re going to leave a mark.”

“We’ll put some dittany on it later, don’t worry.” Levi mutters, unconcerned, swiping at the skin with his tongue.

It’s a heady feeling, having Levi’s naked weight on top of him like this. He can feel the hardness of Levi’s erection pressed up against his own. Shifting himself so they’re rubbing against each other, both slick with pre-come, it elicits an approving whimper from Levi.

Summoning a flask of oil, Levi hands shake a little as he struggles to uncork it. Coating his fingers with the slick liquid, he flicks Eren a lascivious smile. “Ready?”

Levi has slightly crooked upper teeth. Eren can’t reconcile why he finds that so alluring, but a fresh rush of arousal shoots through his body, making him tremble as he nods.

Slowly, Levi slips one finger into Eren’s tight entrance, making him moan loudly.

“Shh.” Levi chides, swiftly silencing Eren with a kiss to his lips before pushing it in deeper. Eren’s mouth falls open, letting Levi’s tongue in.

They kiss frenziedly before Levi breaks away, a wicked grin curving his mouth. “Should I keep going?” he teases, voice low, stilling his hand.

Squirming, Eren gasps. “Don’t ask stupid questions right now.”

Adding another finger, Levi crooks them upwards, searchingly, guided by the cadence of Eren’s moans and _‘don’t stops’_.

“Tell me when you’re ready.” Levi roughly prompts.

“ _Please_.” Eren begs, jaw slack. He feels a little bereft as the fingers are slowly, _torturously_ removed.

Warm hands wantonly spread his thighs apart, making him feel filthily exposed. Small little gasps helplessly tumble out of his mouth as Levi leans into him, spreading him open again with his length.

He can’t believe this is actually happening. As ragged breathing and strangled moans reverberate loudly against the walls of his quiet hospital room, Eren he wonders if anyone can hear them. The thrill of potentially being caught suffuses his body, making him burn.

“You’re so goddamn _tight_ , Eren.” Levi grits out, fisting Eren’s cock firmly, thumb rubbing the sensitive area just beneath the head. He tightly grips Eren’s thigh with his free hand, nails digging crescent-shaped marks into the skin.

Their rhythmic movements are unhurried and agonisingly blissful, punctuated with deep and lingering kisses. With each thrust, Eren scrapes his nails further down Levi’s back, making him hiss.

“ _Fuck_ , right there, Levi.”

Abandoning his senses when his gut tightens, Eren yells out a sob as he falls apart, hot and sticky come spilling over Levi’s hand. Tensing, Levi groans, locking eyes with Eren as he climaxes, spilling hotly inside of him before collapsing forwards onto Eren, spent.

“It’s a good thing you’re a Healer. I think I’m going to die.” Eren jokes, flushed and breathless.

Chuckling, Levi lifts his head off Eren’s sweaty chest and stares intently at him, hair deliciously mussed. “Was it worth the wait?”

“I told you not to ask stupid questions.” Eren scolds, coyly looking at him through thick lowered lashes.

\---

Jolting awake from his dream, face aflame and pulse racing, Eren swears.

 _‘Why’d it have to feel so real?’_ he thinks shakily, body quivering with arousal.

Spitefully denying his dick the release it demands, he pummels his pillow a few times before burying his burning face into it.

He’s not going to be able to look Levi in the eye today.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shorter chapter, but it made me laugh when I was writing it. Poor Eren.
> 
> Forgive me, I'm still getting used to writing smut. ///


	8. Laughter

The Italian restaurant Levi's picked out for his rare Saturday night out with Hange and Mike is quiet tonight. Only a few candle-lit tables are occupied, but that suits him just fine. It’s a Muggle establishment, one that he’d spotted when walking home from work one night. He’s rather pleased with his choice; the atmosphere inside is cosy and inviting, deliciously savoury scents colouring the air.

“Do you think we’ll ever be able convince Erwin to join us?” Hange asks, moving to grab a pepper-shaker and tipping their glass of Merlot over in the process.

“I doubt it. He’s wise enough to keep work and his private lives separate.” Levi says pointedly, wincing as Hanji dabs ineffectually at the now-stained tablecloth with a napkin.

Mike, busy inhaling his laden plate of _spaghetti bolognese_ , grunts noncommittally.

Cringing as he watches Hange continue to make the stain situation worse, Levi loses his patience. Covertly pulling out his wand, he nonverbally casts _Scourgify_ at the table cloth, vanishing the mess. 

“You’re welcome, by the way.” he sniffs, stowing his wand away.

“Ooh, look at you breaking the law.” Hange says with a puckish smile. “I ought to report you to Auror Jaeger.”

“Be my guest.”

“Speaking of Aurors, is it wrong for me to admit I’m getting tired of seeing them at work? All of my current cases are a bit depressing.” Mike finally chips in, plate clean.

“I’ve got a senior one that I can’t wait to see the back of, if I’m honest.” Hanji admits, pushing their food around their plate with a fork. “He’s always criticising my wand technique; it’s like he thinks I’m one of his students.”

The recent uptick of Auror patients has not been well-received by a vocal minority at St Sina’s. Stress levels among staff are currently at their highest. Levi can attest to that, picturing Zackley’s face as he stabs at his plate of _baked ziti_.

Fork now waving wildly in the air, Hange laughs. “Hey, do you two remember that one patient I had? Flower-curse guy.”

“Flower- _arse_ guy, you mean.” Mike corrects, chuckling.

Levi puts his fork down, disgusted. “Do you really have to talk about this while I’m trying to eat?”

Ignoring him, Hange snickers. “Every six hours, on the dot, there’d be a different bouquet sticking out of his ars—orifice!” they amend as Levi sends a caustic glare their way.

Appetite killed for good, Levi slides his half-eaten plate over to Mike with a sigh.

Mike winks at him in thanks before turning back to Hange. “Didn’t he try and propose to you with one of those bouquets?”

“I’d forgotten about that. They were tulips! He was an odd man.”

 _‘Pot, kettle, black.’_ Levi thinks to himself, smirking.

“I never get any interesting patients, just jaded old buggers.” Mike complains, digging into Levi’s ex-meal with great gusto.

“Oi Levi, how come you get all the normal and well-behaved patients?” Hange complains, pointing their fork at him.

Mouth ridiculously full, Mike’s eyes twinkle. “He’s terrifying. Whips ‘em into shape.”

“The only terrifying thing here is your lack of table manners, Mike.” Levi counters, hiding a reluctant smile behind his glass of wine.

Biting into a still-steaming slice of garlic bread, Hanji sighs melodramatically. “Poor Eren.”

“Poor Eren, indeed.” Levi says, thinking back to how quiet and oddly evasive Eren has been for the past few days.

\---

Hange is three sheets to the wind by the time they all depart from the restaurant. Already starting to succumb to the soporific effects of being well-fed and watered, Mike and Levi eye the group’s customary “who’s taking Hange home?” galleon a little more desperately once it’s flipped.

Levi lucks out; it lands head’s up.

Before he can gloat, Hange lurches towards him, pulling him into a rib-crushing hug.

“Love ya, Levi. Bye bye!” they croon, oblivious to his wheezing as they squeeze him tightly. When they eventually let him go, he steps back neatly, slightly winded.

He can hear Mike guffawing.

“Good luck, Mike. See you both on Monday.” he says scowling at the taller man before Disapparating with a _crack_.

Landing directly in the middle of his bathroom, he shuffles over to the sink and turns on the tap.

Catching sight of his wine-flushed complexion, his mirror is unimpressed.

“You’ve been drinking.” it says flatly.

Feigning surprise, Levi raises his eyebrows at his reddened reflection. “Have I?”

“Don’t act smart with me, young man. Drinking ages the skin prematurely, you know!”

Cognisant that this particular mirror is petty enough to drag out an argument into the next day, Levi decides to take the high road and apologise, going through the motions of repeatedly splashing cold water on his face.

Pacified for the moment, it lets him brush his teeth in peace.

\---

The next morning, Levi finds that he has to fight with his flighty fireplace once more when he gets a firecall. After a rather one-sided shouting match, it finally connects. The caller turns out to be a nervous trainee-Healer asking if Levi can come in and cover the morning shift. Thankful that he didn’t follow in Hange’s footsteps and overindulge the night before, he reluctantly agrees.

‘At least it’s not a Wednesday.’

Luckily, the majority of patients he encounters that morning have simple enough problems to resolve.

It’s after lunch when Levi heads over to Eren’s room. As he approaches the door, he’s somewhat astonished to hear Eren laughing.

Curiosity piqued, he slips in quietly, amused at what he sees.

Seated by the bay window, Petra and Eren are engrossed in a rather vicious game of Wizard’s Chess that Eren appears to be winning. Several broken chess pieces from both sides are scattered across the board.

“That was a dirty trick!” cries Petra, as another one of her pawns joins its brothers in a broken heap. 

“I can’t believe I’ve found someone who plays worse than me. I can’t wait to tell Armin.” Eren cackles, eyes bright.

Petra mock-glares, getting out of her seat. As she lifts her head up, she spies Levi standing by the door and jumps, startled.

“Oh, Levi!” Petra calls out, flustered. Cheek resting on a hand, Eren catches Levi’s eye and grins up at him.

While he’s pleased to see that Eren’s in a better mood today, he can’t help but wonder what had set him off in the first place.

“Don’t mind me. I can let you finish your game and come back later.”

“No, no. I need to get back to work anyway. Besides, Eren doesn’t play fair.” she says, scooping the broken pieces into the game box. A few of the surviving chess pieces slump down in relief.

“Every move I did was legal. You’re just bad.” Eren counters cheekily, but Petra only rolls her eyes, a smile dancing on her lips.

Grabbing some rolls of parchment and tucking them under her arm, she waves her free hand at the two men before exiting the room.

Watching as Eren offers a finger to one of his knights, who cheerfully gives him a tiny high-five, a question falls from Levi’s mouth automatically, surprising him.

“You feel like getting some fresh air, Eren?”

Eren’s answering smile is beatific.

\---

Sitting in the mid-afternoon sun with his legs spread in the grass, Eren smiles to himself. 

Tipping his head backwards he glances at Levi who's leaning against a nearby oak tree, nursing a flask of what can only be tea.

“It feels so good to be outside.” Eren sighs, breathing in deeply. 

Levi agrees. The weather’s starting to take a turn for the better with warmer and brighter mornings and afternoons. “You’re right. I’ve actually been _walking_ to work. My fireplace is not happy.”

“What _is_ it with you and furniture not getting along?” Eren laughs.

Moving away from the tree, Levi seats himself in the grass next to Eren, robes pooling underneath him. Escaping Levi’s notice, Eren tenses up, flushing a little at their close proximity.

“To tell you the truth, I have no idea.” He really doesn't. The damn thing should be pleased he's not using it, given how much it complains whenever he actively tries to.

Picking at a dandelion, he blows on it gently. As the seeds lackadaisically float away, he snorts as Eren tries to grab at one and misses.

They sit in companionable silence for a while, Levi sipping at the last dregs of tea in his flask.

“You know, I’m a pretty terrible Auror.”

 _‘Well, that came out of nowhere.’_ Levi thinks, a little taken aback at Eren's sudden candour.

“Oi. You’re not even six months out of training. Don't be so hard on yourself.” he counters.

“I screwed up a _surveillance_ job, Levi. All I had to do was sit and watch, and I couldn’t even manage that.” Eren barks back, frustrated. “It was so easy and I fucked up hard enough to end up in the hospital.”

“Hold on... There’s a saying that Erwin wouldn’t shut up about for weeks. It fits you to a tee.” He mutters under his breath, trying to remember.

Temper abating a little, Eren waits. 

“No guts, no glory.” Levi eventually says, nodding. “I'm sure you had your reasons for choosing to intervene. Eren. You made your choice, there's no point in regretting it now."

Eren fully lies down in the grass and stares up at the sky.

It’s ridiculously blue today.

“The thing is, I don’t think it was about me being brave or having guts.” he says, more to himself – gaze vacant. “I still can't remember what happened that night, but... if I had to pick a reason, I think I did it for the glory.”

Curious, Levi glances down at him. “Why?”

“Who knows? Maybe I thought it’d be a roundabout way for me to spite my dad." His mouth twists. "He never wanted me to be an Auror, after all.”

Levi hears Eren laugh for the fourth time that day. This time, it’s hollow.


	9. Grisha

To Eren’s utter delight and Levi’s dismay, the crossword for today’s issue of the _Prophet_ has the word ‘fireplace’ as one of the answers.

Cheeks still sore from laughter, Eren nudges Levi, currently sitting at the edge of the bed, with his foot.

Glancing up from the thick, leather-embossed Healing tome he’s been reading all afternoon, Levi flicks his gaze over to Eren. “What is it, Eren?"

Thinking of Levi’s Floo-averse fireplace, he smiles. “You’ve never mentioned apparating to work. Why’s that?”

Levi frowns in confusion. “Because I can’t?”

“You never _learned_? Eren asks, voice loud as shock plasters over his face.

“No, _moron_. I know how to apparate. We just can’t do it here.” Levi explains. “Actually, we can – but only to certain areas like the nurse’s station. I don’t really see the point in bothering when I can just Floo directly to my office, assuming my fireplace isn't being a shit.”

“Why are the apparition zones so limited? Wouldn’t it make your job easier if you could just pop in and out wherever?”

“This was a very recent and unpopular change. Security here had to be tightened up when we started taking in Auror patients.” Levi explains, closing the heavy tome and sliding it off his lap.

Feeling guilty, Eren deflates a little. “Ah.”

“Yeah, normally we just put patient wands in storage until they’re ready to be discharged. Under normal circumstances, _we’d_ still able to apparate, but it stops them from being able to and potentially splinching themselves.”

“Oh, speaking of wands... that reminds me!”

Rummaging in his bedside drawer, Eren pulls out a rolled-up piece of parchment with some difficulty and holds it out to Levi, wiggling it.

“I’m not a dog, Eren.” Levi complains, but reaches out for the parchment anyway.

As Levi unrolls the parchment and begins reading, Eren speaks. “The Ministry’ve said they’re done investigating my wand. Only spell they could detect me using around the time of the incident was a Disillusionment charm.”

Levi rolls his eyes. “Why bother passing me the letter if you’re just going to tell me what it says?”

Not paying attention, Eren continues, “So, I guess my wand’s being stored here now.” Looking down, he flexes the hand of his wand-arm. It feels a bit weaker than before.

“Well, yes.” Levi says, dropping the parchment and rising from the edge of the bed.

Frowning, Eren looks up. “Where are you going?

“To an incredibly dull meeting. Breaktime’s over.” Levi says, groaning a little as he stretches, body stiff from sitting in place for too long.

Face growing hot at the sound, Eren chokes. Levi shoots him a questioning look.

“C-can you get me one of those hand-grip strengthening things?”

“I’m not even going to ask.” Levi sighs as he exits the room, shutting the door.

After a few seconds, the door opens. “Yes, I’ll bring you one. I’ll be back in an hour or two.”

Eren laughs as the door shuts again.

\---

After about ten minutes or so, Eren hears the door open. He turns, surprised.

“Levi, I thought you said—"

His father is standing in the doorway.

\---

“Come home with me to Germany, Eren. I will take over your treatment.” Grisha implores, eyes creased with concern from behind his glasses.

“Fuck no.” Eren retorts, reproachful.

Regarding his father, Eren is taken aback at how _old_ he looks. When they’d last seen each other four and a half years ago, his hair had been uniformly brown in colour with a few scattered streaks of silver here and there. Now, it’s thinning and almost completely grey, hanging limply just above his shoulders.

Grisha reaches out in an attempt to grip Eren’s hands, but is rebuffed when Eren snatches them away.

“You’re not safe here. I understand that you are an Auror, but you have already gotten seriously injured! Do you really want to throw your life away?”

“You haven’t bothered to reach out to me in years, dad. Don’t try and act concerned about my life now; I don’t need or want you.”

“Just like your mother, stubborn to a fault.”

“Don’t talk about her.” Eren hisses.

“I do love you, Eren. I may not have been the best father, but I have always loved you. I will remain in London for a while, in case you change your mind.”

Eren can feel that familiar fury bubbling up inside him, threatening to boil over. He can’t handle this, it’s too much. “Get the fuck out.” he snarls.

Eyes mournful, Grisha places a piece of paper on the bedside table. “My current address, in case you need to Owl me. Take care, my son.” Hesitating, he reaches out towards Eren once more.

“I SAID GET THE FUCK OUT!” Eren bellows, slapping his father’s hand away with force.

Recoiling, Grisha backs away, nearly tripping over his feet in his haste. Bumping into the door, he fumbles with the doorknob for a few seconds before rushing out of the room.  
  
Eren doesn’t watch him leave.


	10. No Guts, No Glory

Grisha’s impromptu visit sours the rest of Eren’s week. 

When Levi had returned from his meeting, Eren had mutely accepted the set of hand-grippers he’d procured for him. Unwilling to engage in conversation, he’d turned away and buried himself under his covers.

Levi hadn’t pressed the issue. Instead, he’d got on with his mandatory checks before leaving the room, tone clipped as he’d said goodnight. Their subsequent interactions have been awkward, and it makes Eren feel a little sick. 

His temper has also been scarily out-of-control. He’d actually shouted at Mikasa and Armin when they’d dropped by to see him two days ago. Mikasa had been close to tears by the time Armin had hastily ushered her out of the room. Peeking over his shoulder, he’d shot a disappointed glare at Eren before slamming the door.

Guiltily squeezing the grippers from under his covers, Eren knows he’s being unfair. His fraught relationship with his father isn’t their fault.

_'I'll apologise to them the next time they're here.'_

“Hi Eren, are you awake?” calls Petra’s voice.

Eren loudly grunts in affirmation, but doesn’t move.

“You have two visitors. Aurors Reiner Braun and Bertolt Hoover, I believe? Are you in the mood to see them?” Petra asks.

Surprised but pleased, Eren slowly emerges from his cocoon and nods.

“Yeah, sure. Thanks, Petra.”

She winks at him before beckoning his guests in. 

Reiner enters first, his bulky build almost filling the entire doorframe. Catching Eren’s eye, he grins and hastens over to one of the bedside chairs. It creaks ominously as he sits down. Bertolt enters after, ducking his head slightly, expression pensive.

 _‘He looks tired.’_ Eren thinks, suddenly reminded of Levi.

“How’re you holding up, kid?” Reiner asks, eyes full of concern.

“About as best as I can, given the circumstances, I guess.” Eren sighs, resigned.

“They got any closer to working out what’s wrong with you?”

“Kind of? It’s some kind of curse, but they’re having trouble lifting it.”

Bertolt shifts in his seat a little, humming with concern.

“Damn… that sucks, buddy. Though, I think you’re safer in here than out there at the moment.” Reiner supplies, brows furrowed.

“Not you too! I get enough of that from Mikasa and Armin.”

Reiner chuckles deeply. “Fair enough.”

“So why’d you two decide to drop by? Not that I’m complaining; it’s nice to see you guys.”

“Well…” Reiner glances out of the window before returning his gaze to Eren. “We felt bad because everyone else has dropped by to see you and we haven’t. Don’t want you thinking we don’t care about you, is all.”

“Reiner, it’s no big deal. Work’s obviously been running you guys ragged. Bert, but you look like you’re gonna pass out.” Eren frowns, eyes roving over his taciturn friend with concern. Dark circles rest under his eyes, lending him a haunted look. He also looks a little thinner than the last time Eren had seen him. Bertolt smiles back weakly, but says nothing.

“Yeah, we’re definitely gonna hit the hay once we’re done here but we wanted to bring you a gift. Mikasa had mentioned you’d broken your last one so…”

He pulls out a box from his pocket and places it in Eren’s blanketed lap. It’s small and dear-looking, clearly wrapped with care.

Eren fumbles with the box a little, his hands still shaky from his afternoon potions, but manages to peel back the wrapping paper and open the box. Inside lies a gold-plated sneakoscope, its metallic parts gleaming as they catch the light. Eren laughs, delighted.

“Guys, this is great. Thanks so much.”

“It’s been charmed with a few things to help maintain its integrity, so it should be much harder to break.” Bertolt supplies, voice quiet but eyes earnest.

Reiner and Bertolt stay with Eren for a couple more hours before leaving, taking the last remnants of his foul mood out of the room with them. Eren reclines in his bed, turning on his side to stare at the dormant sneakoscope on his bedside table, biting back a smile.

He’s got colleagues, no – _friends_ , who care about him. He has a career that may be on hold right now, but is waiting for him when he gets better.

He has a life here, a good one. 

“There’s no way in hell I’m going back to Germany.” He says aloud to no one in particular, vehement.

He can’t help but feel a little out-of-sorts, remembering his father’s words. He dwells on how insistent he’d been about taking Eren with him after years of wilful absence.

Had it really taken Eren getting seriously injured for Grisha Jaeger to finally care about him?

\---

When Levi turns up to perform Eren’s nightly check-up, Eren asks him to stay. Apologising profusely for the way he’d behaved for the past week, he talks about Grisha.

By the time he’s finished, he’s feeling more than a little vulnerable. As the ensuing silence stretches on, he looks up from his tightly clasped hands.

His eyes widen.

Levi looks _furious_.

"Are you o-"

“He shouldn’t have been able to access your room. I’m going to firecall Erwin right now.” Levi interrupts with a snarl, making to get up from his seat. Alarmed, Eren grabs at his arm.

“Don’t go.”

Eyes roving over Eren’s face, Levi’s expression softens a little. Relenting, he sits back down but it’s clear he’s still unhappy about the situation. “I _do_ need to report this, Eren. We’ve had to take all of these fucking safety precautions and an intruder was _still_ able to get in.”

Releasing his grip on Levi’s arm, Eren nods. “I know, but…” his voice trails off, embarrassed to admit he doesn't want to be alone. 

“I understand.” Levi says, glancing about the room. “Fancy a game of chess?”

\---

Eren loses by a landslide.

“By the way, how’s the hand training going?” Levi asks casually, returning the now-packed away game box to its shelf with a lazy flick of his wand.

Stomach dropping, Eren gawps. “Huh?”

“I want to see if you’re telling the truth about doing your exercises.” Levi explains. “May I?”

“Uh… sure.” Eren mumbles, still a little confused.

Levi reaches out for Eren’s right hand, touch gentle and skin cool as he presses his thumb into the soft flesh of his palm, palpating the surface.

As he firmly begins to flex each of his fingers in turn, Eren feels blistering heat rush to his face.

 _‘The grippers are right next to him._ ’ His mind supplies, giddy. _‘He could’ve asked you to use those, but chose not to - why?’_

Something hopeful and fragile flutters in his chest. 

Letting go of his hand, he Levi looks up at him. “Good work, Eren.” he says softly, grey eyes strangely dark.

 _‘I think I’m falling for you.’_ Eren thinks, heart skipping several beats.

Is he even allowed to feel this way? There are probably a million reasons why this is a bad idea. He shouldn’t.

He thinks back to that sunny afternoon on the grass.

_‘No guts, no glory.’_

Swallowing, Eren smiles haltingly. “Levi… do you think we coul—"

The sneakoscope begins to whistle and spin erratically, lights flashing. Jumping, both Levi and Eren stare at it.

Irked beyond belief at the timing of the interruption, Eren grabs at the stupid thing. He wants to toss it across the room.

As his fingers wrap around the tiny object, his vision blurs as the world around him begins to spin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :^)


	11. Sins of the Father

Crashing face-first into the ground, Eren groans in agony as his nose breaks, blood gushing out of his nostrils in earnest.

Mind and heart racing in tandem he turns his head, nauseated as it moves through his warmly pooling blood. He looks down at the hand still gripping the now silent sneakoscope, horrified realisation running icily through his veins.

_‘It was a portkey?’_

Two robed figures stand before him, wands gripped tightly in their hands. As Eren blearily raises his head to look at his captor’s unmasked faces, bile rushes up to his throat.

“We’re sorry, Eren.” Reiner says, but there’s no remorse in his eyes. Bertolt, the coward, says nothing but it’s his look of pity that has Eren rushing to his feet, arms swinging.

His fist connects with Bertolt’s stomach, causing him to gasp and stagger backwards, winded.

Before he can get another hit in, Reiner wildly slashes at the air with his wand and Eren crumples to the floor, silent.

\---

Opening his eyes, Eren is greeted with suffocating darkness. He attempts to move his arms but finds his movements restricted. Urging himself not to panic, he collect his thoughts and tries to orientate himself.

_‘I’m on the floor and my hands and ankles are tied together.’_

There’s an unpleasant smell in the room, heavy and miasmic. It’s tinged with a pungent metallic tang that makes his throat clench in protest.

He struggles, trying in vain to loosen the ropes around his wrists, but they’re bound tight enough to make his fingers feel numb.

“Goodness, it’s dark in here.” calls a disembodied voice.

“Show yourself!” Eren shouts, voice thick as his eyes swivel around anxiously.

“ _Lumos_.” the voice croons. The room fills with light, and Eren blinks rapidly as his eyes try to adjust.

There’s a blond man squatting in front of him, lank and greasy strands of hair covering the tops of his grimy glasses. Alarmed, Eren notices he’s covered in blood.

“Hello, Eren.”

“Who the fuck are you, and how do you know my name?!” Eren snaps, teeth chattering.

The man smiles but his eyes are frigid. “Well, I’m Zeke and hm… how do I put this? I happen to know your father.”

_‘What’s dad got to do with this?’_

"Hey Eren, did you know that your father’s first wife was killed by a Muggle?" he asks, peering at Eren intently before shrugging. "Eh... Probably not, he did try to hush it up, after all.” 

Eren stares, confusion written all over his face. He hadn't even known his father had been married before. There's something about Zeke's conversational tone that makes the hair on the back of his neck stand up. 

“I hear _your_ mother also had her life taken by Muggles. Drove one of their motor mobiles into her, right?" Zeke laughs mirthlessly, showing blood-stained teeth. "I bet your father told you she passed away painlessly.” 

Closing his eyes again, anguished and panicked breaths rapidly rush out of Eren’s mouth.

“Grisha loves his little lies, doesn’t he?”

He can’t breathe.

“We can’t reverse death, but we have the power to punish those who hurt us and the ones we love. We’re just too afraid to grasp it, to really use it.” He pauses, chuckling to himself. “That’s why I gathered up my little Warriors. We’ll be the change the world needs.”

Blanching, Eren mulls Zeke's words over in his head, overwhelmed. _'Reiner and Bertolt are Warriors? This doesn't make sense.'_

They’d _trained_ together. They were meant to be his _friends_. Why would they do this?

“You’re fucking insane.”

“That’s not very nice, Eren. You of all people should know what Muggles are capable of.” Zeke remonstrates, wagging a finger at him. “That being said. I have a few more bones to pick, and break, with Grisha Jaeger.” Zeke continues, voice dangerously soft.

He doesn’t understand.

“Father, where are you? Come out, Eren’s here!” he calls out, voice lilting.

Eren gasps, attracting Zeke’s attention.

Lifting a pale brow, he looks surprised. “Eh? You didn’t know? I thought I’d given out plenty of hints.”

Flicking his wand, a prolonged and ear-piercing scream rings out from somewhere nearby. It’s awful.

Yanking his wand arm upwards and back, as if he were reeling in a fish, Zeke cackles again as the still-screaming body rolls into the illuminated part of the room.

“Now that the family’s all here, we’re going to commemorate the occasion the Muggle way. I'll let you do the honours, Eren.”

_'Someone, please save me.'_

Zeke waves his wand in Eren’s direction, eyes murderous and wild. “ _Imperio_.” 

“NO!” bellows Eren before he’s quickly silenced, his consciousness pushed to the back of his mind as control of his body is wrested from him. He’s aware of what’s happening, the abject horror of it, but finds himself powerless. Bindings unknotting themselves and slithering away into the darkness, he screams inside his head when his periphery rightens itself as his body stands up. 

"Our mothers deserved better than you, Grisha."

Aware of his legs stiffly sloping over to the deranged man, eyes glued on the terrible sight of Grisha lying in a bloodied heap on the floor, Eren desperately dives through his memories, trying to recall his Auror training.

Each recruit had gone through gruelling but mandatory sessions of having the non-lethal Unforgivable Curses cast on them.

_“You’re quiet now, but I know what you’re all thinking. So, let me set the record straight, once and for all.” Shadis had said quietly, mean eyes skating across each row of disconcerted trainees. “If you have any hope of being even a passable Auror, you will need able to resist and fight off the influence of an Unforgivable.”_

_“This is non-negotiable. If you fail at this part, you’re no good to me. If you still have any reservations or doubts, abandon them now or get out of my training room.”_

It had taken Eren eleven attempts to be able to shake off the non-lethal Unforgivable curses. Mikasa had managed it in two. He’d been ridiculed by some of his peers and Shadis had almost kicked him off the course, but relented when he learned Mikasa would’ve quit on-the-spot if Eren was booted out.

_‘Why can’t I do it now? What’s happening to me?!’_

Numbly, he feels the grainy handle of a blade being pushed into his right hand, feels his fingers flex around it and give it an experimental swing, light hitting the cruel blade.

His father weakly looks up at him, face beaten so badly that Eren can only tell it’s him because of his eye colour, the one thing they share.

“E…ren…?” he wheezes out, voice wet-sounding.

Forced to watch as his possessed body kneels down in front of Grisha, blade held aloft, Eren breaks.

**\---**

Barging into his office, Levi almost breaks his desk drawer as he forcefully yanks it open. Pulling out Eren’s thick file, he hastily flips through its contents, frantic eyes seeking but not finding.

It takes some time for him to locate the page containing Eren’s contact details. He commits the address to memory before rushing over to his fireplace.

Flinging Floo Powder into the hearth, he drops painfully onto all fours and shoves his head into the acid-green flames. Repeating Eren’s address in his mind like a mantra, he tries to maintain his composure.

After a few excruciatingly slow minutes, a pretty young woman with dishevelled black hair and dressed in red pyjamas answers. She’s kneeling in front of the fire, dark eyes still heavy with sleep.

“Hello?” she calls uncertainly.

“Is this Mikasa Ackerman?!” he shouts, startling her.

Looking wary, she nods. “Speaking.”

“This is Healer Levi from St Sina’s Hospital. I don’t have time to explain, but Eren’s been kidnapped.” Eyes widening in horror, she opens her mouth to speak, but Levi cuts her off. “I know you're also an Auror, so I need you to alert your colleagues at the Ministry.”

“Mikasa, what’s going on?” calls a sleepy voice, this one masculine-sounding.

“ARMIN! SOMEONE’S TAKEN EREN!” she yells, tears pricking at her eyes, before getting up and running out of Levi’s line of sight.

A different set of pyjama-clad legs clambers down in front of the fire. A blonde-haired man, Armin, peers owlishly at the flames.

“How was he taken?”

“His sneakoscope was a portkey. He disappeared about ten minutes ago.” Levi explains quickly.

Eyes narrowing, Armin gives Levi a worried nod. “We’ll get going. Thank you, Levi.”

Ending the firecall, Levi pulls his head out of the fire. 

_'He doesn't even have his wand.'_

Sitting on the floor of his office, face smudged with soot and glimmering Floo powder, he doesn’t notice he’s shaking.


End file.
